


Strip Poker

by prouvairecateur



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: i say eponine/grantaire but they aren't romantic, this is a friendship pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 03:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouvairecateur/pseuds/prouvairecateur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eponine and Grantaire decide to play strip poker. They get an unexpected guest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strip Poker

“Come on, Grantaire, it will be fun.” Eponine had been saying the same thing for the past five minutes. It will be fun. It will help you take your mind off of things. You know you want to. He was not about to tell her that strip poker was maybe not the best way to take his mind off of things. She was just trying to get him to have a bit of fun. "Please."

Grantaire huffed and turned to his best friend. She was giving him her best pleading look, pouting her lower lip. "Fine, I'll play the silly game with you."

Eponine squealed in delight and pulled him over to the table where the cards had already been set out. He gave her a questioning look from across the table as they both sat. "What?" His eyes glanced from the decks of cards in the middle of the table and back to his friend. She just smiled. "I had a feeling you wouldn't say no to me."

"You know me too well, and you play that to your advantage," he mumbled. "I blame it on your father."

Eponine rolled her eyes. She could not exactly pick her father now, could she? He was an awful man, and he treated her and her siblings terribly. That did not mean she hated the man, not completely. He was still her father, and he raised her to be smart- to not let anyone mess with her. She would also be lying to herself if she said she loved her father. If anything, she resented him, treated him with an air of indifference.

"You're just mad because you know you are going to get your ass whooped." Eponine smirked. "Just hope you have more clothes to take off than I do."

“I am way too sober for this shit.”

Grantaire groaned and stood from his seat, sauntering over to the kitchen. He dug around for several minutes while Eponine looked on in amusement. She heard the cabinets slamming and a few grumbles. He located a couple bottles before bending over to dig through the fridge. As he did, Eponine wolf whistled. Grantaire jerked up, hitting his head on the top shelf, before glaring at his friend. "I'm going to enjoy getting you out of those tight jeans," she leered.

“In your dreams, sweetheart.” Grantaire grabbed a bottle of beer for each of them, picked up the bottles he pulled from the cabinet, and all but strutted back to the table. He gave an extra shimmy to his hips as he reached Eponine. He almost dropped the bottle in her lap, when she thought it would be funny to give him a light smack on the ass. Grantaire gave a yelp and slapped the bottle down. “A little warning next time,” he said, bumping his hip into her shoulder. He gave a swig from a bottle of vodka, and sank down into his seat.

Eponine shuffled the cards. “It’s not fun when you know it’s coming.” She looked up just in time to see him raise his middle finger in her direction, and she feigned offense at the crude gesture before laughing. “Keep drinking. It’ll make it easier for me to get the clothes off your back.”  
It was Grantaire’s turn to act offended, as he lifted a bottle and pointed it at Eponine. “I’ll have you know that my poker playing skills actually improve the more I drink. So, you can just think about that when you deal those fucking cards.”

~~

“Off, Grantaire!” Eponine shouted, finishing of her third beer. Eponine had just won her fourth hand, only having lost one. She was currently without a sock, and Grantaire was...well, not as lucky. Both of his socks and his jacket were sitting in a pile next him. “Shirt off now.”

Grantaire raised an eyebrow at Eponine. He stood up, and slowly walked over to where she was reclined in her seat. Leaning in closely, he pushed her chair away from the table, legs scraping loudly against the tile floor. “Make me,” he whispered, before plopping himself down on her lap. 

A hiccup escaped through his lips, causing him to giggle slightly in his inebriated state. Without saying another word, he raised his arms in the air. “You look like such a child, right now,” she commented. Eponine pinched his hip and pulled Grantaire’s shirt over his head. “I thought you said you played better when you were drunk.” He just stuck his tongue out at her. Before he could move off of her lap, she took one of his nipples in her hand and roughly pinched it. The noise he made was somewhere between a squeak and a gasp. “Oh stop being such a baby,” Eponine scolded, pushing him off her lap. 

“You forget you have nails, Ep,” Grantaire replied, rubbing his now sore nipple. Instead of returning to his seat, he made for the fridge again. When he turned around he was holding a beer to his “wound”.

Eponine snorted. “Drink that. I don’t want you putting it back in the fridge after it’s been on your tit.” She grumbled something under her breath about “coming into her house” and “drinking her booze”.

Grantaire just stared at her for a few seconds, then shrugged and popped the cap off. He spinned his chair around and sat in it backwards. “Just deal.”

~~

Grantaire had a lucky streak, winning the next three hands. Eponine lost her other sock, shorts, and blouse- both had two articles of clothing left. “Who’s it going to be?” Grantaire asked, grinning slyly behind the cards he was holding. 

“Together? One...two...”

On three, they both showed their card hands. “Dammit!” Grantaire had lost the hand. Eponine hooted in delight and clapped her hands. 

“Come on, babe. Gimme.” Eponine held her hands out, smiling from ear to ear. 

Grantaire could not help but laugh at her eagerness. “You’ve just been looking for an excuse to get me out of my pants.” 

“I think you have forgotten, I have gotten you out of your pants many a time. I never heard you complain about it before.”

“This is different.” Grantaire was not really upset. He stood from his chair. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” He let his hips thrust in time to non-existent music. Eponine groaned. “Hey! You wanted this.” He continued with his fake striptease, slowly unbuttoning his jeans. Grantaire let his feet drag as he walked up to his friend. “You want to help again?”

Eponine smiled, leaning into Grantaire. She lifted her hand as though she was going to unzip his jeans for him, but she decided to push him away instead. “In your dreams.”

“Now who is the one forgetting things?” He stumbled away and turned around, facing away from Eponine- unfortunately, that also meant he was facing away from the apartment door. He shook his ass a bit before hooking both thumbs in the front belt loops and-

“Hey guys! I brought some- oh.” Courfeyrac had barged into the apartment at the exact moment Grantaire bent over and pulled his jeans off of his backside. Eponine gaped at Courfeyrac and Courfeyrac gaped at Grantaire’s boxer-clad behind. The man with his trousers around his knees just clenched his eyes shut and cursed quietly. 

Eponine was the first to break the silence, laughing maniacally. “Hey, Courf. Just in time, Grantaire was putting on a show. Weren’t you, lovey?”

By now, Courfeyrac had joined in with Eponine’s laughter. Grantaire sighed in defeat and kicked the jeans off his legs. He faced his friends, red as a tomato, and held his arms out as if to say “do your worst”. Both spectators whooped and clapped for the scantily-dressed man. Grantaire decided to play along and began to sway his hips again. After several minutes of entertaining Eponine and Courfeyrac, he sat back down, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Courfeyrac sat on the table near Eponine, setting down the bag of food that he had brought with him. Everyone had calmed down by now. Courfeyrac raised his hand, about to speak, but he was having trouble finding his words. Eventually he looked from one friend to the other, looking almost offended. “Quick question: why wasn’t I invited? The more the merrier, right?” Eponine and Grantaire just looked at each other, before bursting into fits of giggles. “You guys are weird.”


End file.
